Beach Buoy and Another Dog reached the beach at 6-35 p.m.
The promenade bench that earlier in the day had become a reading room was now occupied by an elderly gent sporting a track siut top type jacket.
CROOK TOWN.
F.C.
Written proudly in white on the back of the black top.
There was a mild breeze from the south west.
A lady walked a horse down the access ramp.
It was a fine horse.
Beach Buoy is no expert but it looked like a racehorse.
It looked like it was on a cooling down walk after beach run?
Down near the water's edge, where the best sand castle sand is, a family laid claim to the last bucket and spade of the day award.
It was Beach Buoy's last day off after a week of glorious September weather.
The wind turbines all looked to the south west with Beach Buoy to try and see just where the week had gone?
The tide was well in but by no means was it high.
The sea rippled but it was not rough.
Every now and then the sea would rush in unexpectedly.
Beach Buoy dragged a heel in the sand .
It left a line.
Beach Buoy dared the sea to cross it.
It chickened out.... this time.
It was the end of a week off.
It was just the mood that he was in.
They reached
Stubborn Dog Stack
at 7-03 p.m.
Beach Buoy placed the the beach stones that he had just collected onto the stack.
He patted
THE
stone.
"Evening Mate."
He buried his fingers into the sand.
Love you.
Closer.
The beach was mainly theirs.
Three or four distant stumps of unknown people stood down the north end of the beach.
They had a dull sunset as a backdrop.
"See you mate."
It was still hard leaving him behind.
They would be together soon enough.
Getting Older.
Day by Day.
Beach Buoy stared at the stack.
Hoping that once, just once he would see Stubborn Dog.
His eyes watered.
That'll be the south west breeze to blame.
Yeah right...
They headed for the beach.
